Dance With The Damned
by GhostRider'sAngel
Summary: Formerlly "To Save A Demon" I've actually got a plot this time. Summary: Captured. Broken. With his will to live gone and his mind in fragments,Johnny Blaze has given up and Willow might be the only one who can save him.
1. The Beginning

Alright, here goes. I'm trying this one last time. I know I've really screwed up the story and I'm sorry for all the re-writes. This particular chapter is a test chapter however if it gets enough positive feed back then I'll keep it. Right now, I'm just asking for a few reviews. 'I'm sorry for screwing up the story so much but there's a few positives this time. I've actually seen the episodes and read some of the comics. Also, I went ahead and mapped out a plot. So please, if you can, review. If you do review please let me know how the story flows. Thanks. Like I said this chapter, is a test chapter. It's a draft because my Beta-reader is proofreading it but I just wanted to see if there was even anyone out there still reading my story.  
Alright so, the second movie never happened and Johnny has had the curse since the late nineties. Johnny also looks the same as he did in the first movie.  
Disclaimer: I do not own "Ghost Rider" or any related characters. Nor do I own "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"or any related characters. This work of fiction was created purely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.

* * *

Russia 1917

Howling and barking could be heard through the trees of the ancient forest causing the young woman to turn around and sneak a look light of the men's lanterns shone on the thawing snow and she dug her spurs into the horse once old dirt road that she now traveled on had been to keep trade alive between the villages and it had been her plan to run to the main village to seek shelter.  
However , endless carriages and horses had made the road into a muddy mess from the snow thaw. There was only one way she could go now. Pulling the left rein she kicked her horse hard and urged him up the snowy hill.  
The animal's long graceful strides were shortened into hesitant, short steps. One last time she used her spurs embedding them deep into the animal's foaming flanks. It neighed in surprise and pain then she heard another shriek.  
Looking back, she noticed blood flowing onto the snow behind her signifying the proximity of the crazed dogs. The horse's hamstring had been bitten rendering it useless. The beast's legs collapsed from under it but the woman was able to get her right foot loose from the stirrup.  
She cast one last look back at the dying horse and then forged onward. A bullet ricocheted on a rock not two feet away from her. Throwing her hood back, the woman's blond hair and violet eyes were made visible in the light of the lanterns. A sharp burning pain bit into the small of her back . "Help me!" she shouted and then a wave of screams erupted into the suddenly still night.

* * *

Prague ,May 2002

How long had it been since he had seen the night sky? Felt the sun on his skin? A part of his mind, the part that had yet to become the fragmented mess that was the rest of his mind, questioned. Inside the two-story night club, the air was thick with smoke yet he dare not even cough for fear of being hit. The walls had been painted with some kind of fluorescent paint that glowed brighter than the sun in the black light.  
On Johnny's lap sat a female vampire drinking from the crook of his elbow. Months and months of conditioning had trained him to sit still and stare straight ahead. The woman leaned her head back and looked up at him as he sat on the gaudy purple couch. In her eyes he saw hunger and darkness. Any man would've,should've been afraid yet to him there was nothing to fear. What could hurt him, now that he was already dead?  
The age-old euphoria that came with bloodletting was beginning to weave its way into the edges of his awareness . With his already fragile grip on reality, he let the traumatizing memories flood into his mind.

_He was screaming again. He would scream until he coughed blood and then keep screaming. He knew no one could hear or rather that no one cared. His sides ached with hunger and he didn't know how long it had been since he had last had water. Deep gouges could be seen in the thick black stone that surrounded him from the day's times he clawed and banged his head in anguish. Voices came from the shadows begging him to talk. He happily obliged them, talking idly of past joys and sorrows.  
Pain seared his skin and electricity arched up his spine. Days and months were lost to darkness and agony. The cold black stone beneath him burned his skin as circular patterns pulsated with power. His knowledge of the supernatural was extensive but not even he knew what these symbols meant. Each wall of his perfectly square cell contained what looked like a concentric circle of runes. Every few minutes they flared bright orange and his whole body was filled with unbearable pain. While the ruins were brightest he could see his cell clearly. There were no bars no windows and no doors. No way of escape unless he could get his other self to emerge. When he slept, which wasn't ever for very long, his vision was filled with hell fire lashing through his subconscious like whips attacking a lion. Right before being woken yet again by the torturous runes he could just barely see the silhouette of a woman with fiery hair._

Someone was screaming. The horrible sound came from far away until he opened his eyes and saw that his chest was covered in blood. Rolling his head to the side he saw the female vampire looking at him with fear and guilt. The look he gave her was pure apathy.  
"Miserable wretch," someone screeched and the girl was pulled backward. He watched as the club's owner dragged the obviously fledgling vampire to the door. A man named Boris came to the couch and looked at the wound in Johnny's neck before yelling, "Bring me some blood and some wine."  
It would seem like an odd combination to an outsider but he desperately needed a blood transfusion . As the blood transfusion was underway a bottle of red wine was pressed to his lips in an effort to stimulate red blood cell production.  
"Come on, man. Stay with me." Boris said as he held the bag of blood. With half-lidded eyes the ex-motorcyclist sighed and sank deeper into the couch.

* * *

Thunder could be heard in the periphery and lightning flashed illuminating the dark underbelly of inky black clouds. The animal life in the city was silent. It was as if the world was holding its breath, not daring to make a sound.  
Being careful to not walk through the dark puddles of water two women picked their way over waterlogged cardboard boxes and old newspapers. The two individuals starkly contrasted each other. One was rather short with blonde hair and firm well-toned muscles. The other was taller but not un-average with bright red hair.  
"Where is this place?" The blonde asked out loud.  
The red head frowned in thought, looking around the alleyway. "I don't know," she sighed, "I've only seen the building in a dream. I thought it would be in the warehouse district since most of these buildings are abandoned."  
The blonde nodded, and frowned as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.  
"What is it, Buffy?" The red headed witched asked.  
"Nothing," Buffy responded, but she could feel the distinct presence of another being. They were being followed she was sure of it.  
They walked until they came to a dark double story building. Once this had been a factory, but what interested them were the huge steel doors. A large lock had been placed between them.  
"I can't break this Willow," Buffy said after trying to strain the metal with her hands.  
The witch walked up to the lock and tried to force the lock open with magic but her spell just dissolved around it. The protection charm shattered easily when Willow tried to dispel it. The lock fell harmlessly to the ground. The magic would have kept out most minor magicians but nothing as powerful as the white witch.  
The large doors opened easily to the vampire slayer and both entered the building cautiously. The interior was mostly empty, whatever equipment that had been in the building having been removed. The only object in the room was a large onyx cube.  
Willow approached the cube keeping a safe distance. The object was giving off such strong magic that both witch and slayer could feel its negative energy.  
Looking to her friend the witch began emphatically pointing at the offending object. "Do you realize what this is?" Willow exclaimed both excited and terrified.  
Buffy shook her head no even though something like recognition was brushing over her memory.  
"This" Willow pointed "Is a primordium cube!"  
The blonde's eyes grew almost comically wide as she turned her full attention to the offending structure. She knew from a combination of the watcher's diaries and other more obscure texts that a primordium cube was a prison created by the old ones to hold their worst enemies. Whatever had been placed in the cube was so powerful not even a god could destroy it, at least not permanently.  
Looking back at her friend Buffy wondered "Is it a friend?"  
Willow focused on the surface of the cube. "I'm not certain; whoever put it here wanted it out of the way." She turned back to her friend "If it was a big bad in there surely they would have been placed in a more secure location than a warehouse."  
Buffy nodded her head in agreement. If it had been her, or any of the other hunters she knew, this cube would be on the moon or the bottom of the ocean. A big bad though might have thought their plan of destruction so full proof that they needn't bother. Most of her bigger enemies had been reckless and sure of themselves.  
"So" the slayer started to say. "Do we open it?"  
Willow bit the corner of her lip an obvious sign to her friends that she was conflicted. For several weeks now the creature in this cage had screamed out to her in her dreams. She saw how tortured he was and how much pain he was in. She also knew that he was dark, much darker than even she had been at her lowest. He had blood on his hands. His soul was practically dripping with the blood of others. Even then she could sense that he was a man divided, he was of two minds. The human in him wanted to give up. He had done too much and caused too much pain. He wanted the agony to end even if that meant his death. The part of him that wasn't human wanted revenge, justice was the sole unbridled driving force in its existence.  
Without speaking the young witch stepped closer to the onyx prison and placed both hands softly against its smooth surface. She didn't say a spell or incantation and yet something imperceptible passed between Willow and the cube. Within seconds all the heat in the room was gone and the cool black stone shifted and began turning orange then red as if it had been placed in a furnace. The cube was empty.


	2. Nightmares

Disclaimer: I do not own "Ghost Rider" or any related characters. Nor do I own "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" or any related characters. This work of fiction was created for pure entertainment and no monetary gain was made.

* * *

In a darkened street, a figure looked around warily before detaching from the shadows. Walking fast enough to get to her destination yet not fast enough to draw attention, the woman peered around carefully once more before taking refuge in a phone booth. Once inside she closed the glass door and put a coin into the slot.

After two rings the phone on the other end of the line picked up and a deep masculine voice said, "Hello?" There was a pause as if the woman hesitated and the greeting came again this time more insistent. "It's me. Nadya." The woman whispered looking around. She needed to get back to Danny.

"What is it,Nadya? Is everything okay?" the male voice asked.

The woman hesitated again yet forced herself to answer. "Meet me in the Ravorich motel."

She hung up after that and hurriedly opened the glass door to half-run, half walk back to her room in the dingy motel.

A sign hung above the entrance to the parking lot, reading Ravorich. The V was burned out and it looked like the A would follow shortly. She could feel the gaze of the hotel manager on her back as she stalked up the stairs and inserted her room key. The light in the doorknob flashed a sickly green and she turned the knob only to meet resistance. The deadbolt was thrown.

"Danny," Nadya whispered, "It's me." She listened as the door closed and the lock was thrown back. The rotting door opened to reveal a boy about twelve years old with brown hair and green eyes that had seen too much.

The woman hurried into the motel room and looked out into the dark to make sure she wasn't followed. Satisfied, the woman retreated back into the room and closed the door. She threw the deadbolt back on and turned toward her son.

They had drawn the blinds on the windows and sitting next to the door was a well-worn chair. An unmade bed sat in the far left corner while a narrow door led to the bathroom."

"Well," the boy asked," Did you tell 'im?" Nadya sighed and moved the chair in front of the door. She fel heavily into the seat, trying not to notice how far she sank in the piece of furniture. If anyone came through the door, they would have to wake her up first.

"Get some sleep,Danny." The boy knew that he would get no more information tonight. He turned and reluctantly made his way to the bed where he fell asleep instantly.

It had to be about two in the morning when she finally heard a knock on the door. She peered out of the viewing hole in the door and saw who it was. Opening the door hurriedly, the woman ushered in her guest. It was a tall man in a black trench coat with a scarf around his neck. His hands were jammed into his pockets and he looked like he was very cold.

Once inside he turned around, and looked over Nadya's shoulder to make sure no one had seen him enter. "You found us." the woman whispered. She didn't want to wake her son until she had to.

The man in front of her nodded. His face was partially hidden in dark but she knew what he looked like. He was handsome, very handsome. Had she been younger she might have fallen for him. Yet, there were more important things to focus on than thinking on what could have been.

The tall man looked around the room and his concerned gaze came to rest on the young boy asleep in the bed. "We have to get you out of here," the man said, "I know of a place where you'll be safe."

The man looked into the woman's doubtful brown eyes and said reassuringly," I know this doesn't sound like much. But you can trust me."

Hesitation made her quiet but she still shook her head. "I don't even know you. All that I do know is based on rumors. But, I suppose that you're all I've got." A half-smile tugged awkwardly on her lips but she was too tired to even appear sarcastic.

"Who are you?" Nadya asked bluntly, her eyes now searched his for any hint of untruth.

"Angel," he answered. So this was the man she had heard so much about.

"Get your son and I'll walk you two outside to the car."

Five minutes later a weary Danny and Nadya exited the dirty hotel. Already the woman had checked out and she didn't even look back as she slid into the backseat of the black car.

She pulled her son close and shut the door, locking it.

* * *

_She could hear chanting in a language she recognized but couldn't comprehend. In front of her, she could just barely make out the edges of a table as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness around her. Around the table were bent four figures with red cloaks. Their cowls were up and inhibited a clear view of their faces._

_Once glance was all that was needed to tell her the identity of who was on the table; the man from her nightmares. Around the altar in a haphazard circle were more figures in red cloaks that held lit, black candles .With eerily illuminated features the group chanted as Willow looked on in horror._

_Hearing a click behind her the witch turned to stare into the pale face of a tall woman. Knowing this could be her only chance to save the man, Willow began to commit the woman's appearance to memory. Her dark brown hair had been cropped into a short bob with blunt bangs that reached to the top of her thin nose. Crimson lips parted in a sneer as the woman walked right past the witch and it was then that she saw the blow-torch in the other woman's hand._

_Not knowing if this was a memory or a scene from the recent past, the witch watched helplessly as more cloaked figures grabbed onto the man to hold him down. Fear and hatred could be seen on the man's face as he snapped his teeth at the hands that held his shoulders, catching someone unawares. The man that was bit immediately screamed in pain, the sound echoing off the stones above her._

_Willow had never seen such a look of possessive fire that she now saw in the woman's violet eyes. As the blow torch was lowered to his chest, Willow noted that there was no screaming coming from the man on the altar._

_The minutes seemed to pass like years until finally the woman withdrew the blowtorch. Willow watched as the man lay limp on the altar and the other woman walked up to him and ran her fingers through his hair. Seeming not to care about the woman's close proximity, he let his head roll to the side where he stared into the darkness._

* * *

Light poured in from the dirty windows, dull and pale. For days the clouds had been hanging over Prague, holding back the rain till they could no longer. Outside the wind blew harshly and the chimney that was connected to the room's fireplace swayed with the force of the gusts. Yes despite the noise, the three occupants of the room sat in deep conversation.

"I don't know what it means, Giles," Willow said lowering her face to her hands. The bespectacled man watched the woman with an emotionless look on his face while Buffy looked on helplessly.

The three of them sat at the long wooden table in Giles' study. Consisting of two rooms, the inner office held the desk of the ex-librarian while the outer was more of a conference room.

Set in rows upon rows of shelves were the trademark books of the paranormal. While many had been converted into digital files for a secret database, Giles just couldn't bear to part with his books.

The Slayers eyes flickered over to Giles whose pensive face made her wary. Giles only wore that look when the trouble they were getting into was deep. Granted, most of the trouble they had gotten into was deep but this look made her bite her lip in apprehension. She didn't like it, to say the least.

"This is a Bonding ritual," the man said, swallowing hard. Looking each of them in the eye, he noticed that there was no hint of recognition of the words.

Bringing his palm to his face, Giles murmured, "Please tell me you know what a Bonding ritual is."

At the silence from the two women, he sighed in annoyance and clasped his hands on the table with interlaced fingers.

"A Bonding Ritual, is a ceremony in which some kind of paranormal entity seeks to bond to a mortal. It takes a very powerful sorcerer to pull off."

"Why would a demon want to bond with a mortal?" Willow asked, leaning forward slightly in her wooden chair.

"I have no idea," he replied, "But I know someone who does."

"Who?" Buffy inquired.

The brown-haired man frowned. "Well, I don't know her personally, but I know of her. Her name is Mother Zu."

"And how do we know that this lady will help us?" countered Buffy with a quirked brow.

Giles looked straight into the eyes of the Slayer. "We don't."

"Then why are we going to her?" asked the witch. They didn't have time to waste on people who couldn't help them.

Turning his gaze to the red-haired woman, Giles said simply, "She's an exorcist, Willow."

He watched as Willow's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair. Even Buffy looked surprised as both of them knew that female exorcists were a rarity.

"Well," Buffy said, "Where do we find her?"

* * *

Sirens could be heard in the distance as the four Scoobies stood on the cracked and worn sidewalk in front of the faded pink dwelling. Dogs barked and howled at the wailing sound and the few passersby that were about stared with barely concealed suspicion. In front of them loomed a large and white apartment building. The building itself was nondescript. Free of the gargoyles and stone buttresses that other buildings in the city had, the edifice was bland and whitewashed.

"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Xander, looking warily around at the glaring passersby. Dogs barked and howled at the whining noises from far away. Willow didn't look back at the Zeppo, but rather stepped forward and put her hand on the flimsy glass door. A gentle push was all it tooke for her to enter the building. Buffy and Dawn looked at Xander with questioning looks on their faces, making the man shrug. Steeling herself, Buffy followed her red-haired friend into the building not knowing what awaited them.

Without waiting for her friends to catch up, the witch waited for the elevator to take her to the fourth floor. The doors to the elevator seemed to open too slowly. Willow huffed in annoyance and slipped out through the slim crack between the doors. Rounding a corner, she stopped short. A crowd of people gathered outside in the hallway. As she picked her way uncertainly through the groups that sat or stood, Willow came to the apartment she was seeking.

Glancing uneasily to her left and right, she brought up her hand only to have the door yanked open roughly. A young woman with a dark complexion and angry brown eyes glared at the witch.

"I told you we don't have the r-,"she spat venomously, but then the dark eyes widened in surprise. Willow heard the ring of the elevator down the hall signifying the arrival of her friend. From the corner of her eyes she could see a blonde blob that had to be Buffy.

"Mother Zu is busy, ma'am," the young woman said curtly, then she stepped back from the door in an effort to close it. Faster than the young woman could blink, Willow's arm shot out to hold the door open. "I need to see her," whispered the witch, desperation making her voice raw.

By now the others had made it to the apartment. Buffy seemed just as puzzled by the presence of the throng as Willow was. Dawn looked around apprehensively, not sure what to make of the people around her with desperate faces and glaring eyes.

An ear-piercing scream suddenly made everyone jump. The girl at the door looked over her left shoulder to look at something out of Willow's line of sight. Seeing this an opportunity, Willow pushed on the door making the younger woman stumble back. What she saw made fear run down her spine. Several other people stood warily around the edges of the small living room looking to the young girl on the ceiling.

The girls face was twisted by a deep snarl and the witch was able to see long, sharp canines in her mouth. The girl's eyes burned dark red with slit pupils while a forked tongue flicked out from between her sharp teeth. As soon as the girl laid eyes on Willow, she pushed herself off the ceiling twisting nimbly to land on the carpet and push the witch backward to a wall.

Despite having the possessed girl centimeters away from her face, Willow looked up into the crimson eyes. "You smell of blood and fear, witch. A fitting mate to the Nightborn," Another scream split the air as the girls heard tilted back or rather, was pulled back by her hair. Willow hurriedly pushed away from the wall around the girl and saw that a tall blonde woman now had the girl by the throat.

The smell of burning flesh met Willow's senses as noticed smoke coming from where the blonde woman gripped the girl's throat. To her surprise, Willow watched as the woman's thin arm lifted the girl and banged her head hard into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

The screams of the other men and women in the room died down as two woman came forward to cradle the girl. With a frown on her face, the tall blonde turned to Willow and then looked at her fellow Scoobies that lingered in the door frame.

After giving the group an appraising look, Mother Zu took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it with a match she struck. "So," she said coolly, "What are the Slayer and her friends doing here?"


	3. The Breaking

Disclaimer: I do not own "Ghost Rider" or any related characters. Nor do I own "Buffy: the Vampire Slayer" or any related characters. This work of fiction was created merely for entertainment and no monetary gain was made.

* * *

Screaming could be heard in the dark vaulted catacombs beneath the city of light while eyeless sockets stared at the offending glowing aura of the fire. Stacked and piled in the square room were countless skulls and bones. Against the back wall was an even larger gathering of the anonymous bones. Yet, unlike the others, this wall was orderly. Built of skulls laid in a staggered order like brick, in the center was a circle with an inverted cross in the center. On the ancient dusty floor of the catacombs, was painted a red circle which looked suspiciously like blood.

Mirroring the shape of the skull-wall design, a woman was sprawled in the circle like inverted cross. Above her were women and men, their faces nondescript through the opiate haze of her mind.

There was a murmuring, a swelling of noise in her ears that hummed in her bones. Suddenly there was laughter and cackling and her mind went blank.

Over her stood a pale-skinned man, his dark brown hair slicked back and his roguish features did nothing to cover his delight as the woman screamed. As he finished the incantation he let the last syllable of the meaningless words hang in the air.

For a few tense minutes, silence was the only noise heard in the seemingly endless catacombs. A wicked, eerie howling could be heard as the group settled and watched intently. Then the women stood straight up as if an unseen hand lifted her from the dark-stained ground. Dressed in a white robe, the woman stood motionless with a delicate breeze playing with its frayed tips.

"Hello?" the man said as he reached forward and tried to rest a hand on her scrawny shoulder. "Miku?" he whispered, addressing her in another language. A fraction of a second before his fingertips brushed her shoulder blade an earsplitting shriek cut the thick damp air and the next thing he knew he glimpsed was the vaulting ceiling veiled in shadows above.

Once more the girl screamed in his face as if to get his attention. "Who are you? What is your name demon?"

The thing on top of him laughed, digging her nails into his shoulders through his thick jacket. It was a horrible, mocking laugh. One that comes from seeing countless epochs and ages.

"You're vile tongue burns me!," she shouted, and he could see the details of the girls face begin to unravel. Unable to hold under that power of this being, he watched as her face became blurry . White blazing spots glowered at him from where he knew the eyes were and a yawning mouth gaped at him when the creature spoke.

"Where is she?" asked the man. Despite the circumstances the man seemed to have an air of command around him. Once more he heard the cackling and the thing leaned down to writhing centimeters of his face and whispered," Listen child , listen clear for he who rules the dark is near.".

He watched in confusion, not fear as the possessed woman howled in pain and turned in the blink of an eye to stare at a tall man holding a pistol. Glancing at the pistol, the creature looked down at the robe's front to see it soaked in blood. Her fingers became claws as the woman launched herself at the man to only be hit with another bullet.

Laughing, she sank to the ground where she fell to her side before death claimed her. By now the man with dark hair that was pinned looked up, anger evident in his gaze.

However, before he could utter a word the other man with the gun shouted. "Dmitri, what have I told you about these silly parties?" The others who had been involved in the ritual had huddled almost comically together in the farthest corner. Most of the women, clad in dark robes were whimpering and crying. This must have drawn the older man's ire for he turned sharply and yelled, "Shut up!"

The group visibly flinched and cowered at the sound of the outburst. Even the male members of the group winced and shuddered. "Father, please-", began the younger man in a beseeching tone that didn't match the anger in his eyes.

The man addressed as "Father," holstered his gun and turned abruptly to disappear into the darkness of catacombs followed closely by his two body guards.

* * *

_It was red-headed woman. How many times had he seen her in his nightmares? How many times had she yelled at him, punched him? But now something was different. She was talking plainly, soothingly almost. Around him was an area of destruction and the rain was falling. Despite being kept away for years, he took no pleasure in the freezing torrent. He could see his breath and ice cold needles pricked his feet from the puddles he stood in._

_Slowly the woman came forward, palms pointing outward in a placating gesture. Despite the fear he felt, he gave a warning snarl to try and ward her away. Someone must have said something behind her, something that he couldn't understand. Screaming people and sirens were loud in his ears. Movement suddenly caught his eye and he looked to the right. People were running from him, terror in their eyes. Warped and charred, the ground around him smoked and bubbled._

_That's when he noticed the blood on his hands. The red liquid dripped from his fingertips in what seemed slow motion. The woman in front of him shouted and he blanched. A look of fear flickered across her face for a fleeting moment. Had he been anyone else he probably wouldn't have noticed it, but it was an expression he wore often himself and knew it well._

The feeling of an electric shock woke him from his nightmare. When he opened his eyes he stared into dark brown irises of Agatha, his mistress's mother. The woman before him was a Sister of the Sword, the military branch of her Christian cult. Specially made to combat those who strayed from the Path of Christ, the stout and ugly woman was the leader of her field.

She wore something akin to a nun's habit yet the nuns habit was red where it should have been black and a large inverted cross was emblazoned on the front of the skirt. The woman's brown hair was hidden beneath the habit while she had applied white powder to her face in order to look paler and more conservative.

"Why do you with hold punishment on this woman, Rider? You are the Key to saving this world by purging it from heathens and harlots like her."

The shock of the vision was still with him. As he heard the heart monitors chirping rapidly. Johnny's brow was furrowed in distress and his fists clenched tightly as if he was trying to control himself. Watching the woman with red-rimmed, and blood shot eyes he didn't know how long they had been interrogating him but it seemed like days had gone by since he had been given any food or water.

Attached to Johnny's forehead and chest were countless wires that were otherwise connected to various machines. However, deep in the former stuntman's back were embedded long curved needles with barbed tips. They had been jammed in and around his spine all the way up from his brainstem to his tailbone. The wires that were attached to these needles were in turn connected to his mistress. He watched as she now walked forward, unhesitant even with all the wires that ran like veins on the stone floor.

Desdemona Anastasi was beautiful and she knew it. Her plump and full pink lips curled back to reveal straight ivory teeth. Brilliant and large violet eyes looked at him, him the feeling a wounded deer must get when confronting a hungry lion. The familiar clack of her large designer boots echoed on the black stone floor.

Johnny didn't know her name. To him and the voices that spoke to him from within his mind, she was "The Woman with the Noisy Shoes". He looked at from purple-lidded eyes, watching her get closer and closer.

Desdemona tucked one stray brown hair behind her ear and looked at his shaking form coyly. The images that were usually transferred to her via the artificial connection were often mismatched, fragments of whatever past realities had occurred to him. It painful to reconstruct the images and thoughts he gave her into sensible scenes. But it was possible. Under her employ were the most the most skilled cryptographers money could buy.

She had seen the nightmare he had been dreaming about. The very visage of that red-headed wretch had made her want to scream. For years now, he had been suffering nightmares about her as she tried to steal Desdemona's mate.

More than that however, was the idea that this woman was a Witch. She wielded dark power and had killed innocent men. And that's where the Rider came in. The Rider's sense of justice was absolute. His keen sense of justice spared no one. The drugs he had been given allowed him to enter a realm of consciousness in which he could sense the sin of those from far away.

Yet, there was also another reason for tormenting the Rider. Already they had one piece to the Device. Yet, there were four more to go. The most powerful part of the Device, it's Soul, was the Fire. The Rider would be the only one to know it's location. But that that reason often took a back seat in their interrogations.

Desdemona looked at her adoptive mother and pointed toward the ceiling. Knowing what that meant, the Sister went to the machine and turned a knob all the way to the right. Although Johnny was unable to see her, Desdemona could see his head straining under the leather strap to see her. He didn't have to wait long as the stout woman pressed a button and pain shot through to Johnny. His vision went blurry and flashed white leading him to believe he had gone blind. When the pain finally stopped, Desdemona was able to get another vision.

_Something dark and extremely large swirled in the water around her. The need for oxygen had long since been taken from her, letting her see unhindered. She reached out with her senses trying to hear and feel what the being was. The only thing he could feel was a deep, yawning emptiness. Yet, she knew something was there. For the first time in a very long while, Desdemona felt the slightest uneasiness as to what lay with her in the water._

_"Hello?" she called out. She could also feel Johnny's fear and an instinctual human urge to get the hell out of the situation. Yet, what did she have to be afraid of? She was the Nightmother, High Priestess of, she squelched the desire to swim away like it was a roach and instead called up her deeper magic._

_Projecting her Gift forward to the shape in the dark, a movement caught her eye. Almost instantly, she felt her magic had been brushed off. That's when real fear went through her. What could be so powerful as to shake off the Gift of the Night Goddess?_

_"Leave, now." said a voice in her head. The voice was loud in her head like the crack of thunder or a large earthquake. The voice sounded deep and resonated within her mind and chest like a bass speaker_.

Terror made the woman come back to her earthly self but not before she was able to receive the characteristic jumble of images that was her connection to Johnny.

From her connection to the man's mind she was able to glimpse the red-haired woman that she so viciously sought_. First came, the barrage of people. Countless people were gathered in a small white room. Next came a tall building that looked abandoned. Surrounded by people, the building was old and gray. She could hear voices, "Bonding ceremony," said one. Another asked, "What are the Slayer and her friends doing here?"_

What had she just seen? The woman opened her violet eyes to see that she was on the floor. Holding her was the bodyguard she had chosen as her favorite, Toad. "What did you see?" asked the man. Desdemona sat up with the wires still attached to her head. Then a snarl came to her beautiful face as she stood and shrieked, "Where are they? Where are they? " The drugged man on the table had no idea who was talking to him.

With a scream of frustration, Desdemona sent a very strong shockwave down the wires to Johnny's spine. It hit the needles that were embedded into his back spreading from nerves to though he had felt this pain thousands of times before, it never dulled. The shock seemed to go on forever until Johnny's eyes and nose started to bleed. Smoke billowed forth from the ex-biker's body.

With that Desdemona tore her own wires off and walked out of the chamber. Toad looked back at the man's smoking body and began to unstrap him. Johnny was unable to walk, so he was dragged back to his cell where he was thrown onto the floor, where he lay broken. With a sneer, Toad aimed a kick at the man's broken ribs only to see a hand grip his ankle.

He had felt it when it happened. The breaking. He was gone. Johnny Blaze was dead and all that remained was the empty shell of his body. Yet, something ancient. Something wicked that Johnny had not felt for over ten years filled his body. It was rage. Rage and the thirst for vengeance filled the cavity where he broken soul once rested. So it was this rage that let Johnny launch a huge fireball at Toad making the heavy locked iron door to his cell explode outwards.

Toad was blown against the stone wall where he fell to the floor badly burned. Johnny could already hear the rapidly approaching footfalls of the other guards. Without turning to look he let another fireball go, and heard the screams of the guards as they were burned. Looking down, Johnny saw the source of the stinging pain in his extremities. But before he could do anything, a searing pain of white hot fire shot down his spine and he crumpled to the ground.

With his brow furrowed in pain, the Rider looked up at his mistress. "Hello, Rider." She smirked as the pain of his human body became too much and he blacked out. The woman turned on her heel and snapped," Bring him to the Med lab. We have work to do."


End file.
